


Jacket

by unfroyharper



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Ollie is not always a shit mentor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfroyharper/pseuds/unfroyharper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The first time he wore the jacket, he was fourteen years old.” Roy-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from me constantly stealing jackets from my mom when I was younger.

The first time he wore the jacket, he was fourteen years old. Ollie had dropped it on his head with a chuckle, saying he needed to get used to being cold. Roy didn’t think that was very fair; he’d only been off the reservation a few weeks, the ocean was  _ cold _ even in the summer, and the restaurant's air conditioning was turned up way too high. Still, he slid the jacket on and quietly thought about how the sleeves completely covered his hands, how the shoulders were comically broad on him. Wearing Ollie’s jacket, he felt warm but like he had a lot of growing to do.

Ollie seemed amused by how small he looked in it. Then again, everything about Roy seemed to amuse him in some way. “That’s a nice leather, kid. When it fits, you can have it.”

Ollie left the jacket behind when he ran off with Hal and for the first few weeks that he was gone, Roy wore it. Not because it still smelled a little like Ollie’s aftershave and chili powder or anything, though. Just because it looked cool.

It fit better than it did a few years before, which was good because looking like a little kid putting on his dad’s jacket is decidedly  _ not _ cool. The sleeves were still a touch too long but Roy’d hit a few growth spurts since that night in the restaurant Ollie always took him to after a particularly hard case.

He lost track of it after Great Frog’s first few practices, which was probably for the best because on his worst days, he would have sold it for more smack without a second thought.

The next time Roy even caught sight of the thing was after getting off heroin and detoxing at Dinah’s. He had gone back to the apartment to gather what little things he’d wanted to take and shoved the jacket into his bag without thinking much about it. He’d forgotten it was actually Ollie’s and by that point, Ollie probably had too.

He’d lost a lot of muscle mass during those few months of hell, so when he actually put the jacket on it fit  _ worse _ than before. He had thinned so much that the sleeves nearly covered his fingertips again. 

Roy shoved it into the back of the closet and didn’t bring it out again until after Ollie died.

Finding it still hanging in his closet after that was like a punch to the gut. He’d pulled it out with gentle, shaking hands and sniffed but the only smell was that of leather. Every trace of Ollie was gone from it.

Still, Roy put it on and it was another gut-punch that it actually fit.

Ollie had been right when he’d said it was a  _ nice _ jacket. Almost every time Roy wore it out, he got some kind of compliment on it. Whenever anyone asked where he’d bought it, he’d just shrug and say he’d gotten it from someone.

Years later, after Ollie had come back and Roy had nearly forgotten the jacket actually belonged to him, Roy wore it over to the mansion once.

Ollie stared at the jacket with a confused frown, scratched his beard thoughtfully, then gave Roy a serious look. “Isn’t that mine?”

Roy looked down at the jacket with equal confusion until the wheels in his head spun enough for him to remember. He gave an easy grin. “It  _ was _ yours. But if I remember correctly, you said I could have it when it fit me.”

Ollie returned that grin, the suddenly warm and proud look in his eyes making Roy feel a little embarrassed. “So I did.”


End file.
